


You Bring Spring Right to my Door

by Yessica



Series: Snufmin Week 2019 [1]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dancing, Established Relationship, Flower Crowns, Fluff, Flustered Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Formal Attire, Hair Braiding, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-binary Snufkin, Parties, Pining, Snufkin in a dress, Snufmin Appreciation Week 2019, Snusmumriken | Snufkin Has a Tail, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-04-24 08:14:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19169317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yessica/pseuds/Yessica
Summary: Snufkin is hopelessly in love with Moomin. Moomin is hopelessly in love with Snufkin. Nothing more, nothing less.





	1. Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snufmin Apprecation Week ya'll!!! Here's a couple of drabbles of pure fluff and romance!
> 
> Day 1: Flowers. I'm a nerd when it comes to flower language so you should know where this is headed-

The first time Moomin made him a flower crown, Snufkin was quite sure his friend had picked the flowers randomly. Perhaps thoughtful only of their prettiness, the way the petals had already unfurled in preparation for the hot weather, or which colors looked well together.

"They're beautiful," He had said, admiring the care Moomin had taken in braiding the stems together. Not quick or thoughtless, the way you might do if you're bored or in a hurry. But meticulously, attentive, secure... Everything that distinguished Moomin himself really. "You put quite a bit of work into this I dare say."

Moomin smiled, but he seemed embarrassed at being caught out. He rubbed the back of his head with a paw and looked away. "Ah, yes. Of course. I didn't want it to fall apart too quickly."

Snufkin nodded as he took off his hat and put the flower crown in its place instead. He had worn flowers as decorations on the hat itself of course, but that wasn't really what Moomin had intended here, was it? "What do you think, then?"

The troll finally forced his eyes back to him, blinking for a second. "You-" But he stopped himself quickly, though he leaned forward just the tiniest bit. "It's wonderful, Snufkin. They're wonderful. And they really fit you!"

Snufkin wondered what Moomin was about to say in that fleeting moment.

"I'm glad." He said instead, smiling too, and he had worn the flower crown well into summer, when the petals started shedding and Moomin's hard work eventually did give in to the tug of the elements.

He had been too self-conscious back then to ask for Moomin to make him a new one and mostly forgot about it really, as summer turned steadily into autumn, and he busied himself with preparations for the journey he would soon undertake.

* * *

But come spring, Moomin once more waited on the bridge and came to him with something clenched behind his back.

"Buttercups?" Snufkin asked, taking the crown of yellow flowers from his friend's paws. He felt his face heat up suddenly, but ignored it stubbornly. "Whatever for?"

Moomin faltered, swinging his feet above the river and bracing himself against the wood of the bridge. There were small ripples in the water, reflecting their image in uneven waves. "Mamma has been teaching me a bit about the meaning of flowers," He explained. "These mean 'welcome home', right?"

Snufkin always was the kind of person to overthink things. "Right."

"Don't you like them?" Moomin asked, shoulders sagging just the tiniest bit and Snufkin snapped back to the present startlingly fast, patting the other's arm reassuringly.

"Of course I do," He assured, putting the crown on quickly so he could have both hands free to reel in the line of his fishing rod, which had gone taunt with the first catch of the season. "It's good to be back."

He didn't think much on it really after that. Not when Moomin gave him the forsythia. Not when Moomin gave him the pink camellia. Not even when Moomin handed him the crown of carefully arranged red tulips.

Then autumn came, trailing into the valley slowly, turning the days shorter and the air colder and Moomin watched him with weary eyes, waiting for him to announce when he would be leaving again.

Snufkin knew how much his friend hated it. But Moomin had come to accept it in the way that he did everything, with quiet toleration. Still, he seemed more than a little reluctant to let go of his hand.

"I have something for you," He admitted finally. "It's a parting gift of sorts."

Snufkin could have guessed it would be another flower crown of course. Moomin knew how little he cared for practical things. But he still didn't know exactly what to say as he took them from his friend, the delicate petals of acacia and jonquils laying soft in his hands, woven together intricately as ever.

"Moomintroll, Did y-" He started, but Moomin stopped him suddenly, letting go and taking a step back.

"I thought they looked wonderful together, don't you?" Another step back and there was something pained in his expression. Oh, Snufkin didn't like that all.

He left the valley with a heavy heart that autumn.

* * *

It took an eternity for spring to arrive that particular year. Snufkin had made himself sick with anxiety in those months, rethinking every single moment that came before it and at one point entertaining the thought of not returning at all.

Though in the end that would be even more unbearable than anything else.

Moomin was waiting for him as usual. He didn't say anything about their goodbye so Snufkin didn't either. He told him about his journey and left out all the times he was kept awake at night by tremulous worries and fickle emotions.

He didn't receive any more flower crowns.

It was not as if something had changed between them. Moomin was as he always was, radiant in every way possible. And Snufkin admired him, as he always did. But that didn't help the fact that every touch made him hesitate, every laugh made him falter. When Moomin looked at him it was like Snufkin saw him for the very first time all over again.

Surely he was just being stupid.

He was almost desperate enough to ask Little My for help, who had noticed his distress and taken to prying at it at every opportunity, because she disliked being left out probably. Or maybe she just found it amusing.

She was lying on her stomach and pelting rocks into the river, scaring away the minnows he was trying to catch. Snufkin was a patient person, and not prone to much annoyance at all. He much preferred to be alone when he was thinking difficult things over however.

"Why don't you go bother Moomin?" He asked softly, keeping his voice casual. "Maybe he can keep you company."

She rolled over on her back, frowning up at him in displeasure. "Don't you know?"

He watched intently as the current of the river pulled on the reel, making it bob slightly. "Know what?"

"Moominmamma gave him a book last year that he hasn't stopped reading since." She sighed. "Surely he knows it by heart now. I think he's waiting for something."

"And what book would that be?"

She huffed, rolling her eyes at his questions. "I don't know," She gestured her hands impatiently. "'The language of flowers' or something like that. Lots of text and no pictures, incredibly dull really."

"Is it?" He asked, but didn't listen to her response. Indeed, he could be such an absolute fool sometimes.

* * *

"I brought you something." He held out the flowers tentatively, part of him prepared for Moomin to refuse them. They weren't as nice as his friend's own efforts had been, woven together sloppily and hastily. "I'm sorry they're not very pretty."

Moomin took them slowly, turning them over in his paws a few times. "Are these..."

"Ambrosia flowers," Snufkin explained, pulling up his scarf awkwardly. He wasn't usually this bashful but right now he felt like he'd rather be invisible than anything else. "I thought they would fit you."

For a moment Moomin just stared at the flowers, considering them. The smile that broke out on his face was shaky at first, accompanied by a few rapid blinks. Then it turned into a full-on grin.

"They're wonderful." He looked up at Snufkin and there was something so fragile about him, it made the sun pale in comparison. "You're wonderful."

Moomin wore them all through the rest of summer, and when the flowers wilted Snufkin always made him a new one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The meaning of the flowers are as follows for those curious:
> 
> Buttercups - Could mean "Welcome home" but also used as a compliment, as in "I think you're beautiful/You dazzle me"
> 
> Forsythia - Anticipation
> 
> Pink camellia - Longing
> 
> Red tulips - Declaration of love
> 
> Acacia - Concealed love
> 
> Jonquils - Unanswered desires/Unrequited love
> 
> Ambrosia flowers - "Your love is reciprocated"/Mutual love


	2. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 down, 5 more to go. A little bit of angst in this one but I promise it's still mostly fluff-
> 
> Thank you for all the comments by the way, you guys are the best.

 

 

 

Years ago, when Moomin first met Snufkin, he had asked him where his home was.

Snufkin had told him his home was everywhere and nowhere, shrugging while saying it like it was the most normal thing in the world to him. And Moomin had been impressed, more than anything. Because right then it had sounded almost magical.

But in reality, it also had made him kind of sad.

He couldn't put his finger on why. Some things are just too complicated to put into words, even if you sit around for a very long time and ponder on them. But he supposed it had something to do with the blue house on the hill, with the cozy rooms and the family dinners, and the way Mamma hugged him when something upset him.

"Will you come back?" He had asked, that first autumn, clenching his hands in front of himself. He didn't want Snufkin to know how distressed he felt. It was an inconsiderate thing, really.

Snufkin tipped back his hat a little and smiled. That easy, carefree smiling he did sometimes. It made Moomin's heart skip a beat. "I'll be back in spring." He said.

"You promise?" Moomin hadn't meant for it to slip out. Because a promise was like an obligation, a rope that bound you to your word irrevocably, and which you could either get out of by following through with it or breaking it.

Snufkin hated obligations.

"I promise." Came the answer, with no trace of hesitance. "I'll come back to the valley."

Moomin swallowed and nodded, obstinate in not letting anything else escape him. Part of him wanted to cry still.

* * *

"The weather is quite dreadful." Moominmamma commented, setting the table for dinner while Moomin lay on the couch, pretending to read a book. "Perhaps the worst storm we had all season."

He didn't answer, turning another page he hadn't actually read. The rain was coming down by the buckets, slamming against the windows with none of the comforting sounds a spring shower normally brought with it. When lightning cracked the sky, Moomin thought of Snufkin, all by himself in his tent, and ached. There came a knock at the door and he jumped up, grateful for a reprise from his worrying.

He was very surprised to see the very subject of his contemplations standing on their doorstep.

"I do not mean to impose," Snufkin began uneasily. "But if it's not too much trouble, perhaps I could uh- Stay inside your house for a little while."

He had taken off his hat, hanging sodden and limp in his grip. His hair was similarly soaked, darker in color than usual, and there was already a small puddle forming around his feet. Moomin stepped aside hastily.

"Of course," He watched as Snufkin gingerly wiped his feet on their doormat, though it did little to remedy all the mud clinging to them. "I was just thinking about you."

Snufkin looked up in surprise and Moomin almost physically clamped a hand over his mouth at his own lack of tact. Why was it so hard for him to keep his mouth in check?

But his friend just smiled, something much like amusement caught on his face. He seemed about to say something, but Moominmamma chose this exact moment to join them at the door, wiping her paws on a kitchen towel.

"Snufkin," She said, voice warm. "Come to take refuge from this horrible weather have you?"

"Only if it doesn't trouble you too badly," He explained, holding up his drenched hat with one hand. "It seems my tent has a bit of a leaking problem. I won't stay long."

"Nonsense," She ushered him further into the house eagerly, either not noticing or not caring at the mess he left in his wake. "We were just about to have dinner, I'll set you a plate."

"Really, I don't w-" Snufkin started to protest feebly, sputtering a bit but naturally he went completely ignored by Moominmamma.

"You are always welcome in our home." She said fondly, and Moomin could see the statement made Snufkin tense up slightly, uncomfortable at the obvious display of sentiment maybe.

Or at the fact that it was a guarantee, a promise.

"There's really no need," He said quickly, gazing at his feet. "Sorry about your floor."

Moominmamma ignored that too, fussing over him in her usual manner, and Moomin thoughtfully didn't tell Snufkin how glad he was that he was there.

* * *

"Why can't I come with you?"

He hated himself almost before the words had left his tongue. It tasted vile, like bile rising up in his throat but getting stuck halfway.

He had even promised never to ask again. He really was selfish.

Snufkin didn't answer immediately. Moomin hoped he hadn't heard him, that he could play it off as something else maybe. That he could pretend he hadn't said anything and they could go back to five minutes before, when things were still easy.

But of course Snufkin had heard.

"Go home, Moomintroll."

It stung. He blinked back tears he didn't want to ever be there. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe apologize, but Snufkin didn't let him.

"I have to leave now," He wasn't even looking at him anymore. "Just go home."

Moomin watched his best friend's back disappear between the trees, without asking him again if he would be coming back.

You just don't make promises you can't keep.

* * *

"I didn't know where else to go."

Snufkin had his eyes closed, his voice barely above a whisper, and as Moomin felt his forehead with one paw, he noticed it was still rather warm, but nowhere near the disconcerting temperature it had been yesterday.

"It's good that you did." He said, trying not to sound too reproachful.

Snufkin inched his eyelids open, his eyes were dark and kind of far away. Like he wasn't really completely there. Moomin wondered if he would recall this conversation in the morning.

"Remember what I told you when we met?" He asked suddenly. Moomin had to lean in real close to understand him, pressing his paws into the mattress. They brushed against Snufkin's side lightly. "About my home being nowhere and everywhere?"

"I remember."

"I lied," Snufkin admitted quietly, frowning just a little bit. "I don't think I have a home at all."

Moomin bit his tongue. It hurt, in a lot of ways. It hurt very much. But he didn't want to say something selfish again. He didn't want to say something _bad._

So he pressed their foreheads together instead, felt the heat radiating from Snufkin's skin and well, odds are Snufkin isn't going to remember in the morning either way. He can say something a little selfish.

"You do now."

Some promises were sacred and could't be broken. Only splintering them both into tiny pieces, shattered at every corner, could undo what they've made.

The worst kind of obligation.

Snufkin sighed, his exhale tickled against Moomin's fur, and he was still whispering but Moomin could hear him clear as day.

"I'm glad."

* * *

Moomin had yet to find a way to make summer last forever.

He had been searching for it, for the longest time. For a way to not need promises at all, fragile as they are. To just keep Snufkin with him forever and ever and never let go.

Selfish.

"Will you come back?"

Snufkin laughed, light and easy, as he throws his backpack over one shoulder. It sounded like music to Moomin's ears. "I'll be back in spring."

"You promise?"

Reaching out, intertwining their fingers together for a brief moment, Snufkin looked as if he was seriously needing to consider it, but Moomin knew he was just teasing.

"I promise." He said at length, letting go reluctantly. "I'll come home, as always."

And at the end of the day that's the only promise Moomin needed.

 


	3. Dancing and Singing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 had dancing OR singing as prompt but I did both because go big or go home guys

Snufkin wasn't very fond of parties. He wasn't good with loudness, nor with company really.

It was all fine as long as they were small gatherings, confined to a handful of friends at most. Like the kind of get-togethers Moominmamma would organize in spring. They would all go down to the beach together and swim or fish or hunt for caves, and afterwards they would sit around a bonfire and watch the sky grow dark enough to count the stars, tracing mirage images of the constellations into the sand.

But this was more difficult. Snufkin didn't know if the entire valley had turned out for this event, or if that was just what it felt like to him because he wasn't used to crowds. He balanced his weight on one foot, then the other, nervously, hoping nobody would notice. Moomin was off to his side, talking to an overly-eager Fillyjonk, who had dressed up excessively for the event and insisted on making small talk with everybody while sipping her drink politely.

It was more of a casual affair really, the midsummer festival, but she didn't seem to know that. There were long wooden tables covered in colorful cloth and positively creaking under the weight of their contents: various snacks and beverages brought by the residents of the valley. Somebody had strung paper lanterns in the trees and there were children running around barefoot while their parents joked among themselves and broke out in raucous laughter.

Truthfully, Snufkin didn't stand out among them at all. He just felt like he did, self-conscious about the dirt on his trousers and the way the Fillyjonk giggled, holding one paw in front of her mouth as if it were a crime should anybody see her being too amused.

Moomin had greeted her courteously, listened to her complain about the lack of rain and the lack of sun and the lack of clouds, but even as well-mannered as he was the poor troll couldn't help making a face when she finally turned her back on them, already focused on some other victim to annoy with her chatter.

Snufkin laughed quietly. "She seemed... cultivated."

Moomin chuckled, just a little, before grabbing his hand. Snufkin let him, following as Moomin led him over to the nearest table, where some of their friends were sitting.

"Well, she is always like that. She thinks everything is a formal event. It's not though, really," Moomin confided. He knew of Snufkin's dislike of those kind of stuffy things.

Snufkin observed the array of food before him. Moominmamma had contributed too, providing pancakes with jam for the guests to enjoy, as well as raspberry juice. Moomin asked him if he would like some, but he reluctantly refused, feeling his stomach was too much in a knot to enjoy them.

Sniff did not seem to be suffering the same fate. He had already cleaned off several plates of various sizes and was busily working on the next one. Little My had him almost matched though, and she was not even half his size. Snufkin always marveled at how such a little Mymble could eat that much.

"Are you both enjoying yourself?" Too Ticky asked, one elbow on the table and Snufkin could see she wasn't entirely comfortable herself. He could relate to that. "I do believe the whole valley turned up and then some."

"The midsummer festival is about the most interesting thing that ever goes on around here," Little My commented between mouthfuls. "Something crazy always happens. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I think something crazy always happens because you make it so," Moomin sighed. Snufkin hadn't been there but even he had heard of the electric eel incident that had led to last year's event almost ending in disaster. "Do you have any big plans for this year?"

"Not really," She admitted. "But we'll see where the night takes me."

Snorkmaiden sighed pointedly. "It won't take us anywhere at this dreadful pace." She inclined her head vaguely towards the improvised dance floor, a thin layering of wooden planks laid out in the grass, but completely devoid of dancers. Which wasn't very surprising, considering there was no music either. "I'm afraid no musicians showed up yet."

"Why doesn't Snufkin play?" Sniff asked, apparently he wasn't too occupied with his food to still pay attention. "He's very good, isn't he?"

If Snufkin didn't feel like all eyes were on him before, he certainly did now.

"I- No, I don't-" He started, feeling the mortification of being put on the spot like this creep down the back of his throat already. It wasn't even like he had never played for an audience before, though significantly smaller than this one. That didn't mean the very thought didn't make him want to disappear.

"Oh, please Snufkin," Snorkmaiden's eyes practically lighted up at the suggestion. "I would love to dance to your music tonight."

Moomin turned to him too and Snufkin registered the excitement on his face with unease. "Won't you, Snufkin? I love it when you play for us."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Too Ticky quickly provided and for that Snufkin was more than a little thankful, even if it was lost in the enthusiasm of his other friends.

"Of course not," Moomin agreed, but it was plain to see that he would be disappointed if he didn't. "But you're such a good musician."

"And a singer too," Little My suddenly piped up, and Snufkin threw her a glance that was equal parts annoyance and desperation. "Do you remember, Snufkin?"

Their commotion had made several other guests turn their attention towards them and various mumbles had broken out among the crowd.

"Is Snufkin going to play music? I want to hear."

"I don't think I've ever heard him play before, how exciting."

"Oh, I wonder if he's really as good at it as they say."

Snufkin could feel his face heat up unpleasantly. He didn't mind playing, for Moomin or for their friends, or sometimes even for strangers. But this was just too much. He pushed his hands into his pockets, where the mouth organ was, but could only bring himself to curl a fist around. Then he turned around and ran.

* * *

Moomin caught up with him almost immediately, the distanced sounds of the party a vague buzz hanging heavily in the hot air. Snufkin stopped, and his friend stopped too, putting his paws on his knees to catch his breathe.

"I'm sorry," He said, because he didn't know what else to say. This was the second time Snufkin ruined a party for Moomin by being like this and he hated it.

"It's fine," Moomin was standing next to him in a heartbeat. "I wasn't having that much fun anyway."

"Weren't you?"

With a shrug, Moomin grabbed his hand again. "Not really. Snorkmaiden was right, parties are rather boring without music."

Snufkin nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't play tonight."

"Don't be," Moomin squeezed lightly. "Though I am rather surprised."

"Oh?"

"That I could have known you for so many years and still learn new things about you. It's quite entrancing."

"Little My shouldn't have said that." He muttered, looking away while the now familiar warmth graces his cheeks again. "I only really did that when I was a child."

"Singing?" Moomin inquired.

"Sometimes," He said. "My father liked songs."

"Can you sing for me?"

Snufkin hesitated, then nodded again. If it's just Moomin it should be fine, and he has to make up for what he did. "What would you like to hear?"

"You decide," His friend let go, taking a step back.

After a moment deliberation, Snufkin closed his eyes. The song he chose is one he has heard a lot, very long ago. The Joxter sang it to him sometimes, about birds and linen shirts and sleeping on the grass when the dew is still fresh. He remembered being so eager to learn all the words by heart.

The notes were easy, he imagined the finger placements that go along with it if he were to play it on his mouth organ, but instead they're just coming out of his mouth instead. His voice didn't carry, soft and delicate.

It was a short song and when he was done he waited another moment. He felt silly, but then Moomin was beaming at him, as if awestruck by his performance.

"Snufkin," He said in astonishment. "Little My was right. You have a beautiful voice."

"She didn't say that exactly," Snufkin answered with some embarrassment, but he was rather pleased by the positive reaction. He was spared from having to comment further though, when suddenly the distant noise swelled into actual music. It seemed those musicians arrived at last.

"It sounds like Snorkmaiden will get her concert after all," He said instead. "You should go back, I wouldn't want to be the one to keep you from dancing tonight."

"You don't have to be," Moomin answered, holding out one paw and Snufkin couldn't help but laugh a bit at the other's dignified manner, back bent and perfectly posed. "I think together we could manage."

He laughed and bowed back. "How civilized of you, dear Moomintroll. You are clearly a creature of culture."

"Very cultivated," Moomin joked, though he did a good job at keeping his face straight. "May I have this dance, kind sir?"

"Most certainly."

They each took a few steps back, waiting for the music to pick up in rhythm. Snufkin hadn't really danced before, not like this anyway, but he had seen it often enough to get the general idea. The steps were easy, and so was the twirling. Somewhere along the way his hat flies off and comes to rest in the grass but neither cared. When Moomin lay one paw in his, braced an arm against his waist, and they spun until there was no more air in their lungs, Snufkin found he didn't care at all if he belonged at the party anymore.

He belonged with Moomin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Snufkin sings is Nuku Nuku, a traditional Finnish lullaby used to get children to sleep, though also sung in remembrance of dead and lost infants (which I thought was pretty fitting)
> 
> As for the dancing, they were supposed to be doing a traditional Polska but describing dance is very hard so -shrug-


	4. Fancy/Formal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm one day behind because 10-hour shifts are kicking my ass. This one is a companion piece of the previous one though, because the themes are very similar-
> 
> Also, non-binary Snufkin is one of my favorite headcanons and I'm actually in the middle of writing an entire fic centered around it, but I kind of eluded to it in here as well because yes

Snufkin wasn't very fond of parties. Everybody knew that.

Moomin in particular had experienced first hand the kind of anxieties his boyfriend could work himself into when it came to those kind of things. Snufkin didn't like formal events. He didn't like large amounts of people or having too much attention on him at any given moment.

He especially didn't like being expected to sit still for a very long time while people made meaningless small talk about inconsequential things.

Good thing this party wasn't like that at all. Snufkin had still been reluctant to come of course, but Moomin had been able to gently persuade him, using both the fact that it was almost autumn as well as the event being organized at the Moominhouse itself to his advantage. There wouldn't be many more people than just their family and friends. And while he didn't mention it, it would only be a few more days before Snufkin would be leaving.

They had to make the most out of the time that remained.

So it was that Moomin was pacing the house impatiently, helping his mother set up some snacks and beverages on the table to disperse his own nervous energy. He fiddled with the buttons on his jacket and the silk ribbon around his tail, undoing and redoing it several times.

He wondered what Snufkin would think of his clothing. For the fall equinox, dressing up was as much of a tradition as anything else, but this was going to be the first time they saw each other in formal attire. Moomin thought it was quite exciting. He himself was wearing a proper shirt even, one his father had grown out off for some time now. His jacket on the hand was just a bit too big, but Moomin liked the colorful embroidery along the sleeves, and the golden buttons in two rows down the front.

He just really hoped Snufkin would like them too.

And maybe secretly he was also very curious about how the other would be dressed. Moomin had never really seen his boyfriend in anything other than his regular well-worn coat. This is why, when at last there was knocking on their door and Moomin rushed over to open it, he was quite startled to see Snufkin looking nothing different than usual.

"Snufkin," He exclaimed. "You're not dressed?"

Snufkin looked down at himself then, almost as if he hadn't noticed himself, and grinned slightly. "Really? I do believe I am."

Moomin shook his head, ignoring the joke completely. "Didn't I tell you about the tradition?" For a moment he wasn't sure if he did actually.

Snufkin squeezed past him to get inside. "Of course you did," He said calmly. "I would have really liked to honor it with you. Sadly though, I do not own any other clothes. Certainly not fancy ones like yours. You look lovely, regardless."

The compliment went ignored too, for Moomin was too busy with laying one paw against his own face, embarrassed. He could be such an idiot sometimes.

"You're right," He admitted weakly. "I am sorry for not realizing sooner."

Snufkin didn't look overly bothered by the situation, but for his part Moomin felt slightly deflated. He had been looking forward to this too.

Then an idea hit him, and he grabbed for his boyfriend's hand before he could make it further into the house. "Never mind all that, I have a plan."

"Do you now?" Snufkin didn't seem completely convinced but Moomin wouldn't let that curb his enthusiasm, or his sudden spark of brilliance. Together they headed up the staircase and into Moominpappa's study. This particular room was filled with all kinds of peculiar things his father had collected over the years, from ships in a bottle to animal teeth to dusty old books.

Coincidentally, Moominmamma had taken to using the study as a storage room for everything that didn't spoil but didn't serve an immediate use. Things that really didn't have any proper place, but were too pretty or valuable to be thrown away.

In one corner there sat a large wooden chest with leather fastenings, creased from use. Moomin opened it triumphantly, while Snufkin just stared at the contents. Fabrics of all colors and kinds were completely disorganized here, but it was plain these were clothes. Very fancy ones at that.

"Moomin," He said, throwing his boyfriend an uncertain glance. Moomin knew that glance very well and also knew exactly what to do about it.

He smiled sweetly, leaning close against the other, while still holding on to his hand. "Please, Snufkin? For me?"

With a small hum, Snufkin conceded. "Anything for you, my dear Moomintroll," He bent over the chest and rummaged through it for a bit. "Let's see then, shall we? This might not fit me at all."

"Don't say that. I'm sure it will look wonderful."

Snufkin held up a button-up that probably had enough room for three of him. "I meant size wise." He explained. "Though that too. I don't think any of these are really something I'd be comfortable in-" He broke off suddenly and smiled wider.

"I don't think that's ours," Moomin said, looking over his shoulder at what had made him stop talking so unexpectedly. "Snorkmaiden probably left it here at some point and forgot about it."

"It's perfect."

Moomin went outside and waited for Snufkin to change. He could hear the voices of his family from downstairs, and the music Moominpappa was playing on the gramophone. Eventually the door opened again and Snufkin stepped out, hands clenched in front of himself.

The outfit was just slightly too big on him, much like Moomin's own. The white blouse had long, loose-fitting sleeves that covered a tad more of Snufkin's hands than was usual. It was tucked into the skirt at the waist, which was laced tightly at the back. The skirt itself just about reached the floor and was adorned with vertical striped of red, yellow, blue and green. He had left his hat behind as well.

"So, what do you say?" Snufkin asked at length, at which point Moomin realized he had been staring without saying a word, awestruck.

"It's beautiful," He said quietly, but he knew his boyfriend had heard because his cheeks tinged slightly red.

"You think so?" Snufkin turned around in a circle, as if trying to look at himself from a different angle, and Moomin noticed he had also taken a silk ribbon from the chest and tied it around his own tail, so that they matched.

"I think I was right," He said then, maybe just the tiniest amount of self-satisfied amusement slipping into his voice. "You do look wonderful."

"So you were," Snufkin brushed past him, lifting up the hem of his skirt with both hands so as to not trip on his way down the stairs. "I do believe Moomimpappa is playing a waltz? Shall we go and dance again?"

Moomin trailed after him happily. When they got downstairs everybody was very surprised. Just like Moomin, none of them had seen Snufkin in anything other than his outdoor clothes before and also just like Moomin, they thought it was a good look.

"Yes, well," Snufkin answered haltingly, though Moomin could see he was blushing so hard even his ears had turned red this time. He giggled, but took mercy and diverted everybody's attention by suggesting they dance now, just as Snufkin had mentioned.

It was a lot slower than the one they had shared at the midsummer festival a few weeks before, intimate even, with intertwined fingers and their bodies pressed close together.

And Moomin didn't think about the end of summer for the rest of the evening.


	5. Holding hands and kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a bit lazy and decided to combine these two prompts into one. This one turned out rather short but hopefully sweet. 
> 
> And I promise that I will make it up to you tomorrow with my bombshell

Snufkin loved hearing Moomin talk.

It was strange. Not in the sense that Snufkin was more of a listener than a talker, though that was certainly true also. But he usually found himself too unconnected from people to actually be much good at it.

Often he thought it difficult. Most conversations revolved around either connecting with each other by finding some relatable experience (Snufkin quickly discovered that while he had plenty of experiences, not many of them were considered relatable) or sharing some kind of deep emotional feeling (Snufkin had plenty of those as well, but none that he liked sharing with just anyone he met).

With Moomin things were different, a lot easier anyway. He could spend hours just sitting somewhere and listening to Moomintroll tell him things. Sometimes they were about experiences and sometimes they were about emotions and Snufkin really didn't dislike either. But sometimes Moomin just talked about nothing and he liked that more still.

"I think it's beautiful," Moomin sighed, softly. Like maybe he didn't quite want Snufkin to hear him. He moved his head just a bit, but a sharp tug on his hair made it so he couldn't exactly turn around and see what his boyfriend was going on about.

He had a sinking suspicion he already knew though. "It's inconvenient."

"Really?" Moomin stopped braiding abruptly, Snufkin felt the troll's hold on the strands slacken and he could probably turn around now but then he would risk ruining all that hard work, so he kept still instead.

"I meant the length, not the braids," He explained. "It's getting hard to keep tidy. Not to mention it tends to get in my face at times. Very bothersome."

Moomin resumed braiding carefully, trying not to pull too tight. From time to time Snufkin felt him pause and pick another flower to weave into the braid. "You should ask Mamma to cut it for you then."

"I know," Snufkin said, because he did. He didn't add why he was so reluctant to actually do that though. Because it meant they wouldn't be able to do this anymore. Sit together and have him listen while Moomin talked about everything and nothing and all that fell in between. His boyfriend never really expected him to do much talking during these times, and that was also nice.

Moomin's paws moved through his hair carefully. It always had a horrible habit of getting incredibly tangled, especially when it got long like this.

"I think it's done," Moomin mumbled eventually, then stood up and repeated firmer. "Yes, it's definitely done. I'll show you." He held out a paw and Snufkin took it.

They walked the short distance to the river. The weather was calm, not the heat of summer in full swing yet, but getting there. The water was pretty stagnant for this time of year anyway as they stood on the riverbank, hand in hand, staring at their reflection.

Moomin had done an admirable job this time as well, taking the longer stands of either side of his face and braiding them in simple patterns, decorated with the stray flower here and there. At the back they joined together, where the rest hung loosely onto his shoulders.

"It's really pretty," He said, watching the way the current distorted their image just the tiniest bit. "But you do surprise me. Where did you even learn to do this?"

"Your sister taught me," Moomin admitted. "Your oldest sister." He clarified after a moment, because truly Snufkin had a lot of sisters to choose from. "She lived with us for a while. Maybe she could teach you too?"

"Maybe," Snufkin answered. "Thought that would mean you wouldn't need to do it for me anymore and that would be a misfortune. Thank you, my love."

And then he decided to do something a bit daring and pressed a kiss to the side of Moomin's snout. They had quickly learned kissing in the traditional sense was a cumbersome undertaking for them due to their differences in facial structure. But so far they had made it work.

Moomin seemed to like it anyway, as he startled just the tiniest bit before squeezing his hand. "S-Sure," He said but it wasn't hard to see how pleased he was. "I think it is about time for lunch. Should we be getting back?"

"Perhaps," Snufkin hadn't let go of his paw though. They were so very soft. He hadn't really noticed that before. "Or perhaps we could stay just a little while longer?"

With a hum in agreement, Moomin turned back to the river, still mirroring them so perfectly. He didn't talk this time, content in the silence.

Snufkin liked that most of all.


End file.
